


Sur'miite

by mxartbotboy



Series: Taylir Ca'nara (Keeping Time) [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (LadyIrina AU), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din likes it when Corin speaks Mando'a, Dirty Talk, Frottage, I know more Mando'a than I've ever wanted to, Language Kink, M/M, Mando husbands, Mando'a Language Kink, Mando'a dirty talk, No helmet, Porn with a smattering of plot, Praise Kink, Sexy Poetry Reading, Sexy use of Mando'a, Smut, What is this idea I had, excessive use of Mando'a, handjobs, love poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23558164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxartbotboy/pseuds/mxartbotboy
Summary: Corin gets more than he expected when he stumbles on a collection of traditional Mandalorian poetry and brings it back home to read.
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Din Djarin/Corin Valentis (LadyIrina AU)
Series: Taylir Ca'nara (Keeping Time) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702948
Comments: 29
Kudos: 147





	Sur'miite

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Family and Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758992) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



Leaning back in his chair, Corin dragged his hand across his face. It had been two- no, three hours and even when he closed his eyes, Mando’a letters swam in the inky blackness behind his lids. With a sigh, he surveyed the crates before him. There were five in total, each full to the brim with an assortment of data tapes, holovid spools, and data cartridges; the Covert’s archives.

Mandalorian culture, family histories, stories, songs, recipes, everything written the Covert had about their people was contained here, in these five crates in a small storage room down the hall from the kitchen. From what Corin understood, much had been lost during the Great Purge or had been scattered along with any surviving Mandalorians. Alongside the Covert’s desire to liberate Mandalorian artifacts from thieves and Imperial warlords, hunting down and saving Mandalorian texts was also a secondary prerogative for the group.

It was amazing to him that of all the things they carried with them from one hideout to the next, they ensured these five crates went with them.

The downside was that it had been a long time since anyone had taken care to organize anything, making it nearly impossible to peruse if you were looking for something in particular. However, the last supply run had landed the Covert a couple of one billion exanode data cubes; enough memory space to significantly downsize the archive to one or two crates.

In an attempt to keep busy, Corin had taken on the archiving project. What he didn’t realize was how time-consuming it would end up being, considering all of it was in a language he had only just started to grasp, conversationally at most. It would sometimes take hours for him to decipher what genre a text fell into and what category it would be filed away in; before he knew it, he was into his second week of painstaking translation.

Corin reached for the next data tape on the stack when his comm buzzed an incoming transmission on his personal line. He plugged his datapad into the tape and began the file transfer before picking up.

“Corin here.”

_Corin, where are you?_ Din did not sound happy.

“What do you mean, I’m still…” Corin’s voice trailed off as he checked his timepiece, “Oh, _kriff_.”

_That had better mean you’re on you way._

The datapad beeped, indicating that the download had completed. Corin unplugged it and stood, stretching his back as he did, “Yes, _cyare_ , I’ll be there soon.”

_Alright._ The tightness in Din’s voice had disappeared, reminding Corin that it was likely more concern than annoyance that had laced his words earlier, _See you_.

“See you.”

Running a hand through his hair, Corin glanced down to see what had downloaded. One eyebrow raised, and then both as he swiped through the first section. Now _that_ you didn’t see every day. He had been meaning to find something for some casual Mando’a practice. Tucking the datapad under his arm, he left the storage room, making a quick stop at the nursery to press a kiss to the sleepy child’s forehead before headingto his and Din’s.

“I’m so sorry I lost track of time, Din,” Corin said, closing the door behind him.

Din had already begun the process of taking off his armour, most of the pieces stacked neatly on the table. He looked up from the vambrace he was unbuckling and light from the lamp glanced off his visor, framing the side of his helmet in a glowing halo. Corin’s chest clenched at the sight, of his beautiful _riduur_ , and couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t died in those dusty stacks.” The Mandalorian tilted his head, “What’re you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Corin tossed the datapad down before joining Din in removing his armour. They stood in a comfortable silence, carefully laying pauldrons next to cuirasses next to vambraces. Corin had moved to his boots when Din turned his attention to the datapad.

“What’s this?” Din asked, picking it up.

“Oh just something I brought from the archive.” Corin yanked off his other boot and placed it near the foot of the bed, “It looked interesting and I thought it would help my Mando’a.”

Swiping through a couple pages, Din paused when he saw the contents, “I didn’t know you read poetry.”

“I didn’t know Mandalorians _wrote_ poetry.”

“It was an old tradition.”

Din continued to stare down at the datapad as Corin shrugged off his jacket, draping it across the foot of the bed. After completely changing into his sleep clothes, he approached Din, still lost in the page he was reading. Corin cupped his hand across the back of the datapad and Din lifted his gaze, uncharacteristically unreadable, “I didn’t know we had this.”

Corin stroked a thumb across Din’s knuckle, “There’s a lot of interesting things in the archive, you should come with me one day. This is the only collection of poetry I’ve found so far, though.”

Without another word, Din put the datapad on the table, “Maybe.”

* * *

A few days passed before the poetry collection came up again. Corin had taken to reading before bed, alternating between the collection and the Mando’a dictionary he had permanently downloaded. The reading was slow going and full of vocabulary that Corin had yet to come across, let alone learn how to pronounce properly.

“ _Kay coy-eh, coy-ee_ …” Corin muttered, frowning as he tried sounding the Mando’a words to himself.

Both of them were reading, with Din’s back to the headboard and Corin leaning against him, nestled between his legs. Din looked up from his own datapad and peered over Corin’s shoulder, “It’s a long O, _kooy-ee_.”

He chuckled and Corin blushed faintly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not.” Din’s hair tickled Corin’s temple as he propped himself forward, “How’s the _sur’miite_?”

Rubbing his eyes, Corin sighed, “Hard. The phrasing and conjugations are all over the place. I guess this poet didn’t have much consideration for the rules of grammar. Not to mention that it probably sounds better spoken aloud than read anyways.”

Thighs compressed Corin’s hips, the Mandalorian shifting behind him. “Hmm.” His hands ran absently down Corin’s upper arms, “Read it to me then.”

Corin lowered the datapad into his lap, turning to shake his head, “Oh no, you don’t want to hear me butcher this.”

“I think,” Soft lips brushed the nape of his neck, “I do.”

Feeling very hot all of a sudden, Corin whipped around to stare at the datapad, eyes wide. Din was still drawing patterns on his arms, sending tingles down Corin’s spine. This was… different. Had Din been thinking about this since Corin borrowed the collection? Trying to re-order his thoughts into some semblance of focus, he cleared his throat, “Um, alright.”

Din’s knees bent to bracket around Corin and he tugged to press him back along his chest. Stubble scratched at Corin’s cheekbone and hands slipped around his waist, leaving Corin completely enveloped in Din’s hold.

“Just take it slow. I’ll help with the pronunciation.”

His _riduur’s_ breath ghosted across his ear and Corin shivered. Licking his lips, he turned his frazzled attention to the poem he had started reading. It was a shorter one, and like most of the pieces, untitled. The first lines came out slow and stilted and Corin’s face burned as he spoke, “ _Ca cuyi munit bal ni cuy cirar at tigaanur_.”

“That’s good,” Din murmured, “But rounder _ahs_. Try it again.” He stroked idly at Corin’s stomach. The burning was starting to migrate downwards and Corin gulped. Now was _not_ the time to be getting overly excited by a little bit of touching.

“ _Ca cuyi munit bal ni cuy cirar at tigaanur_ ,” Corin said again, rounding the _ahs_ liked Din had instructed, “Night is, er, long and I am–” He filed through the vocabulary in his mind but came up blank.

Din pulled Corin in closer, speaking into the crook of his neck, “Cool.”

The word was anything but cool to Corin. Din’s hand moved to trace the skin just above his waistband, the other sliding up his shirt.

“C-cool to touch. Ah, um, _ner pel’gam beskaryc ashe- asheso’la kad’la’yc woor bal vhekad hokaanir at ner haalas_.” Corin inhaled a sharp breath as fingers brushed against his collarbone. Din’s embrace was like a hungry mouth ready to swallow him whole and for a moment he forgot what he was doing. He was reminded by the slightest grind of hips against his.

“Keep going, _cyar’ika_. You’re doing very well.” Din’s voice was low and breathy, goosebumps erupting across Corin’s scalp at the praise.

A real flush was creeping across his cheeks now, embarrassed by how aroused he was feeling. The evidence was quickly growing more obvious in his pants and Corin squeezed his legs together, wondering distantly if he would end up finishing the poem at all.

“Uh,” Corin clutched at the datapad as Din’s fingers dragged over his waist band and slid down his thigh, “Right, um, _gar pel’gaa-_ ah–”

He barely contained a gasp when his _riduur_ began gently rubbing circles on his inner thigh, fingertips drifting lazily back up, “U-uh, _pel’gaan_ _t-teh nor’vaii oya’karir prudiise teh m-me’suum’ika_.”

Panting heavily through his nose, it took all of Corin’s brainpower to translate in the wake of Din’s wandering touch, “Your touch from behind chases, um, chases sh-shadows from the– _D-Din…”_ His head fell back. One of Din’s hand was rolling a nipple between two fingers while the other skirted around Corin’s now painfully obvious erection.

“The _what_?” Din asked with a smirk in his voice. Corin squirmed in his grip, hips rocking between the touch he desperately wanted and the hard length pressing into his lower back.

“Th-the moon.”

The teasing was agonizing, Din’s lips molten on his neck, and he needed friction _now_. He reached down to try to encourage Din’s grasp to where he wanted it, but instead found his wrist being snatched and pulled back.

“Not yet, love. One more line for me.”

Corin strained against the grip, tossing his head to the side, “ _P-please_ , just–” He choked on a groan when Din nipped at the tendon between his neck and shoulder, shuddering. He kissed the bite before licking his way up to the sensitive skin behind Corin’s ear.

“You’re doing so well for me, _cyar’ika_. _Sol’ori briik_.” He moved from one nipple to the other, this time merely teasing the tip with the rough pad of his fingers, “ _Bal ni’run tigaanur gar bev_.” The touch had Corin arching his back, whining as his aching cock throbbed for attention. He’d never heard such filthy words from Din before in Mando’a and the soft lilt combined with the rumble of each syllable as he spoke it had Corin wound up tighter than a converter coil.

Sucking in a trembling breath, Corin tried to ignore Din’s hand now creeping downwards as he read the next line, “ _Gaane laam n-ner norac’taakur akay mhi cuy tome_. Fingers up my spine u-until,” his hips twitched when Din pushed beneath the give of his waistband, “we are t-together, ah, _fuck_.”

Gripping the base of Corin’s cock, Din gave one slow smooth stroke, eliciting a loud groan from the ex-trooper. He released his hold on Corin, who promptly latched his hand onto Din’s thigh with a beskar grip. Din growled, grinding hard into Corin and sucking another flare of pleasant pain into his neck.

“ _Mhi cuy tome_ ,” Corin whispered, not missing the effect his own Mando’a was having on his _riduur_. Din now had his free arm wrapped tightly across Corin’s chest and was rocking his hips in rhythm with his strokes to the ex-trooper’s cock. Swiping his thumb across the head and the sensitive skin there, Din buried his face into the crook of Corin’s neck.

“We are t-together.”

“ _Osik_ , Corin,” Din moaned, half muffled, “ _Ka’tomur sur’miite_ ,”

Corin’s mind was a flood of pleasure and stimulation and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to continue. Din was pumping him hard now and he could feel himself riding an edge he was closer and closer to tipping over with every passing second.

“Din, I don’t-”

“ _Ka’miit’haa’taylir_ ,”

Din’s command rolled through him like a shockwave, sending Corin tumbling into the next lengthy line in a gasping haze, “ _Woor orj-jore ti brokar’la n-ny’orare laamyc, pel’gamsh-shukur’la jaire shuk’la bal nynir’l-la_.” His grip on the datapad was so tight his fingers hurt, hardly able to hold it still enough to read.

“The wind howls in b-beating roars abo-ove,” A deft twist of Din’s wrist had Corin shaking, struggling to finish the translation, “skin-shattering screams t-tearing and whipping.”

“ _Ni- ni nars tomur_ –”

Corin pushed back into Din’s cock, grinding into his ass with fervour as he read, “ _Ke’taylir ni gebi, ner cyar’ika_.”

With a shout, Din was coming, frantic and writhing behind Corin. He kissed his way along the back of Corin’s neck and then a hand was gripping his jaw and craning his head. Corin watched the tip of Din’s tongue dart out across his lower lip and then lifted his gaze. The Mandalorian’s face was lovely, a dusting of pink across his cheeks and pupils black as night.

He strained, holding the eye contact and groaned the translation, “Hold me close, my love, _oh fuck, Din, Din, ah_ –”

A hot mouth covered his as his orgasm washed through him. Din smelled of sweat and leather and Corin kissed him lazily, drinking in the scent as he came down.

“ _Mesh’la_ ,” Din murmured, pulling back.

Corin cocked an eyebrow, reaching up to rest is arm across Din's, “Liked the poem, huh?”

Chuckling, Din kissed him again, pulling out his hand and wiping it on the bedsheets, “I liked you reading it.”

“Evidently.”

Sighing, they both leaned back. Din dropped his legs down as they drifted, enjoying the press of their bodies together. Corin held the datapad against his chest. He could feel the still quick beat of Din’s heart rumbling against him and he closed his eyes.

“But you didn’t finish the poem.”

Corin groaned, lifting the datapad, “I’ve done enough reading, thank you very much. You read it.” He felt Din’s huff of amusement ruffle his hair as he plucked the datapad from Corin’s grip. Settling with his _riduur_ , Corin barely heard the words of the poem’s last line, sleep winding around him like the hold of Din’s arm.

“ _Gaane tayliryc ne’tome tome bal nadalycir ner pel’gam tug’yc_.”

Hands that keep the pieces together and warms my skin again.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> kriff  
> cyare - love  
> riduur - husband, partner  
> sur’miite - poetry (literally ‘visual speech’)  
> cyar’ika - sweetheart, darling  
> Sol’ori briik - One more line  
> Bal ni'run tigaanur gar bev - And I’ll touch your cock  
> Osik - Shit  
> Ka’tomur sur’miite - Finish the poem  
> Ka’miit’haa’taylir - Read  
> Ni- ni nars tomur- I- I’m going to come  
> Mesh'la - Beautiful
> 
> This... destroyed me a little to write, but it's done. I truly have no idea if this is just a ridiculous concept or not, but I'm choosing to believe that it's sexy and not dumb. I'm sorry if you thought it was dumb. I'm glad if you thought it was sexy.
> 
> Link to the poem in its entirety: https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/23524939  
> Check it out as I also wrote and translated the whole damn thing and it could use some love!
> 
> Hit me up on tumbr at [mxartbotboy](https://mxartbotboy.tumblr.com) and say hi!


End file.
